


If I Leave (Alternate Ending)

by saccharinepeccadillo



Series: If I Leave (series) [2]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Ending, Anger, Angst, Bad Ending, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Murder, Other, Peril, Violence, anger issues, i would say its morty/morty if you squint but it somehow turned into this, it can be read either way, so if you're uncomfy with selfcest please tread lightly, the morty/morty is abusive either way so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 21:30:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10795128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saccharinepeccadillo/pseuds/saccharinepeccadillo
Summary: this is an alternate ending for the last chapter of If I Leave, i highly recommend ya'll go read that first if you havent alreadythank you so so so much to those of you who left comments on If I Leave thank you this alt ending wouldnt have been made without you guys





	If I Leave (Alternate Ending)

Rick was trying to hide it as best as he could, but the truth was that the day’s mission was solely for a last-minute weapons order. He knew that Morty didn't enjoy these kinds of runs, he probably hated them judging from how he'd reacted to meeting Krombopulous Michael. Their car ride was especially tense this time, Morty sitting as far away as he could from Rick while Rick tried to focus on driving, and not on the questions flying around in his mind. He was hoping that the deal would somehow take his mind off the events of the past couple of days, maybe make things better and ease the waters between the two of them. 

Rick wasn't mad at Morty, if anything he was just worried. He didn't know what his grandson was getting into, and while it could be completely harmless, he had a feeling there was something sinister going on. The fact that the other Morty had been trying so hard to get Morty to leave was rubbing Rick the wrong way.

Rick was relieved when they pulled up to the parking lot of the warehouse that he'd agreed to do the deal in, finally being able to focus on the task at hand. As he parked, he grabbed everything he needed as quickly as he could. "Morty, you stay in the car okay? I'll-I’ll be right back." Morty looked at him scrupulously. "But I never stay in the car. Why are we here, Rick?" Rick easily slid out of the car, locking it on the way. "Grandpas gotta do this on his own, Morty, it's safer for you in here. I promise I'll be right back, I'll only be like, two seconds." Rick slammed the door closed and hurried off to the warehouse, casting a worried look behind him towards the car. 

 

Morty had done as Rick said and begrudgingly waited in the car. But that was about 20 minutes ago, while Ricks deals only lasted 5 minutes’ tops. Something wasn't right, and Morty knew it. Curiosity and worry getting the better of him, Morty opened the car door and slipped out, being slow and careful in case Rick came out of the warehouse. He did not, and Morty hesitantly made his way to the warehouse door, peeking inside before stepping in. Big boxes were piled up to the ceiling, making walls and corridors throughout the layout of the building. Morty walked down the one in front of him, repressing the urge to call out for Rick. Morty imagined that he had probably just gotten to chatting with his clients and had let the time escape him, but he also had a strong suspicion that that was far from the case. Rounding a corner while lost in thought, he came face to face with a scene he thought he would never see. 

Rick sat in a single chair, wrists tied behind him and guards at either side or him. He was lightly kicking his heels against the legs of the chair in a bored manner and glaring at the figure in front of him. The figure was talking, but turned to face Morty almost immediately, sensing his presence before anyone else in the room. 

Mortimer stood in front of Morty with a gun in his hand, and as he took in the sight of Morty a smile lit up his face. "Morty! Just in time, I was starting to get worried about you, you know. Thought you might not show up." Mortimer walked over to Morty and slung a comradely arm around his shoulder, not seeming to notice or care about Morty’s shock. "M-Mortimer, what did you do to Rick? What's-what’s going on?" Mortimer led Morty over to his original spot in front of Rick, waving his gun in their grandfather’s direction. "I've set it all up for you Morty, this way it will be much easier for you." Mortimer let go of Morty and started slowly pacing around Rick, who watched Mortimer with hatred and a hint of poorly hidden fear. Morty stood in the spot Mortimer had left him in, nervously grabbing his shirt hem. "You mean to... run away?" Mortimer chuckled, stopping behind Rick for a moment to regard the back of the old man’s head, before continuing his lazy stroll. "Well yes, that too. But there is one teeny, tiny, little thing you need to do before we can leave." Mortimer had made his way back to Morty’s side. Morty felt dread rising in his chest, refusing to look at Mortimer, knowing in his gut what Mortimer was talking about. Instead, he locked eyes with Rick. Where there should have been fear or anger on his face, there was only sadness that stabbed Morty worse than any knife could have. 

"Morty, you need to kill him."

Morty immediately shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "No, no I can't do that Mortimer. He doesn't deserve-"

"He deserves worse than death, Morty." Mortimer grabbed Morty’s hand, bringing it up to hold close to his chest. "He's hurt you. Betrayed you. He thinks you're nothing, but you are everything, Morty. Kill him Morty, and together we can be great, no limits. Just us." Morty was shaking, torn between the two of them. "I don't know what your Rick was like, Mortimer, but you don't know my Rick." Mortimer abandoned Morty’s hand instantly, viciously grabbing Morty’s face and twisting it towards his own. Morty heard Rick fighting against his restraints, yelling something out to try and stop Mortimer from hurting Morty. "I know exactly what this Rick is like." He spat, tugging Morty’s face close. Fire burned in his eyes. "Rick C-137. 'The Rickest Rick'. My horrible grandfather." Mortimer roughly let go of Morty’s face, turning towards Rick. "He left me to die, Morty. When I needed him most, he left me, and never came back to find me." Realization dawned on Ricks face. "You're...?" Mortimer stepped forward, leering tauntingly in Ricks face. "That's right Rick, it's me. Thought you could get rid of me that easily?" Rick looked panicked, struggling with his restraints. "What? No! That's not what- I didn't-" Mortimer slapped him across the face, and Rick stared at him, dumbfounded. "Any words you have for me are useless now. Any fucks I gave died along with those crew members." 

"You're a psychopath."

Mortimer’s mouth twisted into a grin for a split second, before he stood up straight and turned back to Morty, who was looking between the two with utter confusion. "He'll abandon you just like he abandoned me, Morty. But if you kill him," Mortimer passionately grabbed Morty’s hands, slipping the gun into them and closing Morty’s fingers around the handle, "Morty, together we could accomplish great things. He wouldn't be in our way anymore. No more manipulation, no more using us like tools, no more limits." Mortimer circled behind Morty, holding his shoulders tenderly with a crazed look across his face. "Shoot him, Morty." 

Morty looked up at Rick. He was still, looking off the side. He looked more tired than Morty had ever seen him look in his life. Morty’s hands trembled fiercely.

"Do it, Morty." Rick whispered. 

Morty’s mind was scattered. If he lost Rick, he didn't know if he'd be able to live with himself. But if he killed him, he'd never be subject to Rick's cruel bullying ever again, never having to experience the agony he'd put Morty through time and time again. Morty’s hands were trembling, and he stared Rick down, waiting for him to at least look up at him. When he did, Morty regretted it immediately. Morty had hoped that there would be tears, or anger, anything at all. But Ricks face was void of emotion, only expectantly gazing back at Morty. He didn't know if that pissed him off or made him more upset. Morty knew he was crying, that if this were a normal situation, then Rick would tell him to suck it up, but Rick was oddly quiet for once. Morty felt Mortimer’s hands on his shoulders, somehow comforting despite the circumstances, and Morty leaned into his touch slightly, hoping for some kind of guidance. Rick gave Morty a sad, hopeful smile, Morty trying to choke back a rising sob. "Come on Morty, I want you to. Just do it." Slowly raising the gun, Morty tried to take aim at Rick, his hands trembling too much to line it up correctly. He felt Mortimer lean forward in anticipation behind him, his breath coming out in short, hot bursts against Morty’s neck. Rick leaned in too, seeming to vibrate with anticipation for what was to come. The air was electric, everyone paused expectantly for Morty to make his move. Morty’s breathe caught in his throat, making his words come out garbled and strained. "I'm sorry." 

 

Morty let out a loud, pained sob as he pulled the trigger. As if in slowed motion, he watched in horror as his grandfathers head was blown backwards, bits of brain flying through the air behind him, and his body going slack in the chair. Morty's hands when limp, letting the gun clatter to the floor as he stumbled forward to grab Ricks lifeless shoulders. As Morty stared at the body, realization of what he had just done dawned on him, and he let out a unrestrained wail. 

Before anymore sadness and despair could overtake him, he was suddenly awash with anger. He didn't quite know who it was for, but he directed it towards Rick, who he suddenly and very violently yanked out of his restraints in the chair. He flung the dead body as far and as hard as he could, letting out a pained scream as he did so. He dove at it, feeling almost feral as he whaled on the pile of meat, punching and kneeing until the body started to fall apart and show the blood and gore underneath the skin. As if the switch that had suddenly be switched on to anger was switched off again, Morty stilled his movements and stared at the pile of meat that used to be Rick. He hiccuped as he attempted to gather his grandfather in his arms, trembling so hard that he kept dropping the body. As he became more aware of his surroundings, he heard himself muttering. 

"... sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Rick I'm so sorry, please come back, come back Rick I need you, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it I'm sorry, I'm-" he cut himself off as he went into a coughing fit, which devolved back into sobbing and incoherent muttering. 

At some point, Morty stopped all together and just sat and stared, unmoving and unfeeling while kneeling next to what used to be Rick Sanchez.

 

Mortimer had successfully broken Morty. Having watched his meltdown with barely hidden delight, he was now viewing Morty silently running his hands over the bloody gore of a body, his eyes far off and distant. Mortimer decided that he had let Morty have his fun, and slowly got up and walked over to him. Mortimer knelt down behind him, wrapping his arms around Morty with nothing but happiness and adoration. The only way Mortimer could describe what he was feeling in that moment was elation. If Morty had flinched to Mortimers touch, he didn't notice. 

"I'm so proud of you, Morty. You did so, so well." Mortimer started to run his fingers through Mortys hair appraisingly. He thought of saying something to take one last jab at Rick, but decided to wait until Morty was in a less fragile state. Instead, he just sat there and pet Morty affectionately, while Morty skimmed his fingers through drying blood. Finally, Morty spoke, his hands stilling. "Mortimer?" 

Mortimer let out a hum to show that he was listening, having half a mind to ignore Morty. In that moment, he wished they could stay like that forever, relaxing by their grandfathers decaying corpse, no one else around but the two of them. Forever.

"Is this a dream?"

Morty had started to tremble again, hot, fat tears streaking down his ruddy cheeks. Mortimer pulled him closer, hoping that the action would calm him down so that he would go back to being calm and complacent. "It feels like it is, doesn't it?" Mortimer sighed and stood up, pulling Morty with him. "Luckily, if this is a dream then it's only just started." 

Mortimer slowly wrapped his arms around Morty again, passionately and intensely embracing him. Excitement and joy coursed through him, and he could feel Mortys clammy skin against his own. Finally, Morty lifted his own arms around Mortimer, tugging on him as if he was a lifeline. 

"Morty and Mortimer, forever and ever, a thousand years." Mortimer whispered. Morty let out a strangled sob and gripped onto Mortimer tightly.


End file.
